HOW THE LONG DAYS PASSED.
On Saturday, November third, began a great sewing of fur caps,
children's clothes, and also garments for the teacher. For the caps, a
pattern had to be made before beginning, but Alma and not I did it.
About four in the afternoon Mr. H., Mr. G. and Mr. B. came in from the
Home, having worked all day at collecting driftwood as they came along,
piling it upon end so it will not be buried in the snow, for that is the
only fuel we will have this winter, and it must be gathered and hauled
by the boys.
While in the sitting room after supper three gentlemen and the wife of
one of them called to spend the evening from the A. E. Company's
establishment. One was the manager and head of the company's store here,
another was his clerk, and the man and his wife were neighbors.
We soon found out that the young clerk had been up the Koyuk River
prospecting, and wanted to go again. The boys want to go there
themselves, and we gathered considerable information from our callers
regarding the country, manner of getting there, the best route, etc.,
and spent a pleasant evening, as they seemed also to do.
Sunday, November fourth, was marked as the first time of holding church
service in the schoolhouse since our arrival, and a good number were
present. Twenty-two Eskimos and ten white people made a cozy little
audience for Mr. H. and his interpreter, Ivan. I played the organ, and
they all sang from Gospel songs. For some reason a lump would come up in
my throat when I played the old home songs that I had so many times
played under widely differing circumstances, thousands of miles away;
but under the current of sadness there was one also of thanksgiving for
protection and guidance all the way.
It was a motley crowd listening to the preacher that day, from various
and widely separated countries, Sweden, Norway, Finland, United States,
Alaska and possibly some others, were represented at this service as
well as at the one of the evening held in the Mission House which needed
no extra lights nor warming. A few more natives came in at this time,
and Mollie, the captain's wife, was there with her mother. Again I
played the instrument, while the rest sang. The little sitting-room and
hall were crowded, seats having been brought in from the kitchen, and
some were standing at the doors. One old Eskimo woman seemed in deep
trouble, for she wiped her eyes a great deal, and she, with some others,
were very dirty, at least if odors tell stories without lying.
Monday, November fifth: This has been a fine day, and brought with it a
new lot of experiences. I took a few kodak views of a dog-team and
fur-dressed people in front of the Mission. After supper four neighbors
came (the same who called on us the other evening) with their horse to
take us out for a moonlight ride, and it proved a very novel one. A big,
grey horse, with long legs supporting his great hulk, and carrying him
away up above us as we sat on the sled; the conveyance, a home-made
"bob" sled upon which had been placed rough boards piled with hay and
fur robes for the comfort of passengers, and the harness home-made like
the "rig," was ingeniously constructed of odds and ends of old rope of
different colors which the men assured us, when interrogated upon the
point, were perfectly strong and secure.
In it were knots, loops, twists, and coils, with traces spliced at great
length in order to keep us clear of the horse's heels, but which
frequently got him entangled, so that he had to be released by the
footman (the clerk). When this occurred, the latter, with an Indian
war-whoop, leaped off the sledge, flourished and cracked his big "black
snake" whip in air to encourage the animal to run faster, and I, sitting
with the driver on the front seat, gripped for dear life the board upon
which I sat. No Jehu, I feel sure, ever drove as did our driver tonight,
assisted by the whooping footman with his black snake. Through drifts
and over the pond, which was frozen, down steep banks to the beach,
through snow deep and still deeper, helter-skelter they drove,
skurrying, shouting, urging the poor beast on until he was wild of eye,
short of breath, weary in limb, and reeking.
Overhead the air was clear as crystal, stars bright, and a perfect full
moon shining with brilliant whiteness over all. Only the jingle of the
bells upon the horse, the shrieks of our footman and driver, and the
laughter of the passengers on the "bob" broke the stillness of the
quiet, frosty air, which, in its intense purity and lightness seemed
fairly to vibrate with electricity as we breathed.
November sixth: I have spent the day at making a warm winter hood for
myself. Finding that Mr. H. had grey squirrel skins, I bought six of him
for twenty-five cents apiece, for a lining for hood and mittens. The
hood I made pretty large every way, sewing two red fox tails around the
face for a border to keep the wind off my face, as is the Eskimo
fashion.
During the day G. and B. went out over the beach to collect driftwood
for winter, and G. came home finally without his companion. It was
thought that B. went on to the Home, as he found himself not so far from
that as from the Mission, where he would probably remain all night, and
come over next day. Two natives, with as many reindeer and sleds, came
for flour and other things, taking Mr. H.'s trunk of clothing with them
for the missionary. The little Eskimos were delighted to see the deer,
and ran out to them, petting and talking to them. Then they rattled on
among themselves about the animals, inspecting and feeling of their
horns, patting their fat sides, calling their names, and showing their
pleasure at seeing the pretty creatures in various ways. I did not know
which were of most interest, the deer with long, branching antlers,
sleek spotted sides and funny heads, or the group of odd little Eskimo
children, with their plump dark faces, dressed in furry parkies and
boots, tumbling gleefully around in the snow.
Wednesday, November seventh: The weather is beautifully clear and sunny
today, with charming sky effects at sunrise and sunset. Red, yellow and
crimson lines stretched far along the eastern horizon, cut by vertical
ones of lighter tints, until a big golden ball climbed up higher, and by
his increased strength warmed the whole snowy landscape. A few hours
later, this great yellow ball, looking bright and clear-cut, like
copper, sank gently beneath the long banks of purple-red clouds massed
in artistic and majestic confusion. Everything, at this time, was
enveloped in the cooler, quieter tints of purple and blue, and hills,
peaks, and icy bay all lay bathed in exquisite color.
The two Eskimos brought the reindeer back from the Home today, stopped
for lunch, and then went on their way to the herd again. Ricka, Alma
and Miss J. went out as far as the cliff for a ride on the sleds behind
the deer, but I felt safer indoors. Ricka says when the animals dashed
over the big bank, out upon the ice near the cliff, she thought her last
hour had come. At first the deer trotted steadily along on the trail,
but going faster and faster they rushed headlong through the drifts,
dragging the sleds on one runner, and tearing up the snow like a
blizzard as they went, until it seemed to the two girls, unused to such
riding as they were, that the animals were running away, and they would
be certainly killed.
Miss J. was quite used to this kind of traveling, and made no outcry,
but Alma and Ricka finally got the natives to stop the deer and let them
get off and walk home, saying it might be great fun when one was
accustomed to it.
The sleds used by the natives are called reindeer sleds because made
especially for use when driving deer. They are close to the ground, and
very strongly built, as they could not otherwise stand the wear and tear
of such "rapid transit." Side rails are put on, but no high handle-bar
at the back, and when a load is placed upon the sled it is lashed
securely on with ropes or thongs made of seal or walrus hide; otherwise
there would be no load before the journey was completed.
Mr. H. says he has long experience with them, but never feels quite sure
that an animal will do what is wanted of him, though when driven by
natives who are well used to their tricks and antics, especially if the
animals have reached mature age, they make good travelers, and get over
the ground very fast. A hundred miles a day is nothing to them if the
snow is not too deep and their load reasonable.
Men and dog-teams are coming into camp from Nome each day now, and say
that the trails are in first-class condition. We hope for mail soon from
Nome. Mr. H. came, bringing with him a Swedish preacher who is wintering
here, though not officially connected with the Mission. He is a sweet
singer, liking well to accompany his Swedish songs upon the guitar or
organ, for he plays both instruments.
Mr. L. left at six in the morning for the Home, walked there and back,
and arrived at six in the evening. He went to ask Mr. H. if he and the
others could have reindeer with which to go to Koyuk River on a
prospecting trip. He gave his consent and they think of starting next
week. They think there may be some good creek up there that would do to
stake, and the clerk is going with them.
We have jolly times each evening singing, visiting and knitting. My
black stocking grows under my needles a few inches each day, and will be
warm and comfortable footwear under my muckluks surely.
November eighth: Some ptarmigan were brought in today, which are the
first birds of the kind I have seen, and they are beautiful. They look
like snow-white doves, only larger, with silky feathers and lovely
wings. They are soon to be cooked, for they are the Arctic winter birds
and make good eating. We are all blessed with ravenous appetites.
A man was killed with a club last night in a drunken brawl, in a hotel
near by. He only lived a few hours after getting hurt, but it is said
that the other killed him in self defense. Both the United States
marshal and the commissioner were away at the time. It is a pity they
were not at home, for the affair, perhaps, would then have been
prevented. There are probably not more than one hundred white persons in
the camp altogether, but there must be fully half as many Eskimos, and
they are always coming and going. There are several saloons (one kept by
a woman), a large hotel and one or two smaller ones, besides two or
three company's stores and a few log cabins and native huts, besides the
Mission.
The boys want to get off as soon as possible for Koyuk, but fear they
will have to go to Nome for camp stoves and pipe, as there are none to
buy here. They brought wood from the beach today on the sleds, and there
is no lack of fuel here, nor of strong, willing arms to gather it. It
seems a long, long time to wait without hearing from the home folks. I
wonder how it seems to them. I only wish they could see how comfortably
and happily we are situated, and what jolly times we have, for it would
do their hearts good. Few are so favored in all Alaska, of that I am
certain.
Saturday, November tenth: I have sewed all day on a canvas coat for Mr.
B., Alma helping with the cutting. He wants it to put on over his fur
parkie to keep the snow and rain off it, and has himself made the loops
and fastenings. He whittled out the buttons from small pieces of wood,
twisted cord to loop over them, and put them all firmly on the coat so
that it looks well, and will be serviceable. I put a good-sized hood of
the same, with a fur border around the face, on the coat, and it will be
a good garment to hunt ptarmigan in, for it is the color of snow, and
the birds cannot see him.
The visiting preacher has had an experience in being in the water, and
from it has contracted rheumatism in one limb, which he is nursing, so
he sits by the fire and plays and sings for us while we sew. He is very
pleasant, and all seem to like him. The weather is not cold and Miss J.
and Mr. H. started out with reindeer for the Home at seven in the
morning. It was a singular sight to see them when leaving. All the
little natives in fur parkies stood around, watching. The two sleds were
loaded with baggage, and Miss J. sat on the top of one of them, holding
the rope that went under the body of the deer and around his Head and
horns for a harness. This deer was tied to the back of the sled in
front of him, and Mr. H. went ahead having hold of the rope that was
fastened to the first deer.
Sunday, November eleventh: We are having a heavy and wet snow storm. All
stayed in until three in the afternoon, when we attended church service
in the schoolhouse. I played the organ, the Swedish preacher read the
Scriptures, and Ivan interpreted. We sang hymns and songs, and the hour
was enjoyed by all, though the preacher did not feel quite well enough
acquainted with the English to preach in that tongue, and Mr. H. was
away. There were about twenty natives present, and ten or twelve white
people, Miss E. remaining at home to get the dinner. I went in thought
over the great waters to my southern home, where today the churches are
decorated with palms and floral beauties, and I saw the friends in their
accustomed seats--but I was not there. Thousands of miles away to the
frozen north we have come, and little do we know if we shall ever see
home again. Tears came to my eyes, but I kept them hidden, for none
shall say I am homesick; I am glad to be here. I have faith to believe
that the Father's loving watch-care will be still further extended, and
I shall reach my homeland and friends some time in the future.
November thirteenth: Weather is warm, wet, and sunny. Water is running
in the bay and snow is soft under foot. I worked this afternoon on a
mitten pattern for myself, assisted by Alma. Evidently pattern making
was intended for others to do, for though my spirit is as willing as
possible, the flesh is very weak in that direction; but I did finally
get a mitten, thumb and all, that looks not half bad. This was banner
day for my laundry work, and my handkerchiefs have been ironed for the
first time since I sailed from San Francisco. Heretofore I was in luck
to get a time and place in which to wash them. At half-past four o'clock
in the afternoon, when it was too dark to sew longer, Alma, Ricka and I
went out upon the beach to meet the boys who had been gathering wood,
and we walked a half mile over the rough trail of ice blocks, drifts and
hummocks.
We floundered on through all until we saw them coming, and then sat
resting on some logs until they came up. Two of Mr. H.'s dogs, Fido and
Muckaleta, had followed us, and ran at our heels playing in the snow,
which was more than one foot deep in places. The boys had found a long
ladder on the beach, probably from some wreck, and they had brought it
on the sled with the wood. It was most difficult work hauling the sled
over the uneven trail, and all were puffing and perspiring when they
reached home.
A little prayer meeting was afterwards held in the kitchen during which
Mr. H. and Miss J. came in from the Home with reindeer, tired and
hungry. We spent a pleasant evening visiting, singing and knitting.
A man has come from Nome, and says that the steamer bringing Mission
supplies from San Francisco was obliged during the last hard storm to
throw some of its cargo overboard, and part of the Mission's stores were
thus lost. All are sorry to hear this, as it means a shortage of
necessary things, like furniture for the Home, where much is needed.
November fourteenth: Miss J. has taken in two more little Eskimos, a
girl and a boy. First of all, she cuts their hair close to their heads,
then each has a good bath in the tub, and they are dressed in clean
clothing from head to foot, and fed plentifully. This was their program,
and they look very happy after it, and evidently feel as well and look
better. This boy seems to be about ten years old, and the girl a little
older, but it is not customary among the Eskimos to keep account of
their ages, and so nobody really knows how old any one is.
Alma has cut over a big reindeer skin parkie for the visiting preacher,
and a fur sleeping bag for Miss J., while Ricka has made a fine cap for
Mr. H. of dog's skin, lined with cloth. This morning when the men went
out to the hills where their two reindeer had been tied in the moss, the
animals were gone, and Ivan returned fearing that they had been stolen,
but when Mr. H., G. and B. went to look, they found no men's footprints,
and concluded that they had broken away and gone back to the herd, as
their tracks went in that direction. Mr. H. went on after them, and the
two boys came home wet with perspiration from floundering about in the
deep, soft snow, and wearing their heavy rubber boots. I gave them
coffee when they got back.
I have sewed on my new mittens, and done some knitting, besides tending
the baby, who runs quickly from one thing to another like any other
mischievous child, getting into first one thing, and then some other,
which must be coaxed away from her by management. I usually do this by
giving her some new plaything, if I can possibly find any article she
has never yet had. A box of needles, buttons and thread she likes best
of anything I have yet found, and a grand reckoning day will come before
long when Alma finds the little Eskimo has been amusing herself with her
property.
Mr. G. found a part of somebody's outfit, consisting of clothing and tin
dishes, on the beach today. Miss J. held a little meeting again in the
kitchen for the natives after supper, and is very happy over having the
two new little Eskimos.
This is our fourth week in the Mission, and pleasant and happy ones they
have been, at least, if there have been vexations to some, they have
succeeded admirably in keeping them out of sight.
November fifteenth: The weather is still warm, wet and slippery under
foot. This morning a young man called from Nome, with a letter from
Mary, saying she is coming by dog-team as soon as the trails are good.
The commissioner called today to get the preacher to officiate at the
funeral of the man who was killed, but it was postponed until tomorrow,
because the grave could not be finished before dark. The commissioner
sat for half an hour, and chatted in the sitting room.
November sixteenth: All hands are at work now for the children, and
overalls, waists and shirts for the little boys as well as garments for
the girls are on the docket. The big boys fished, and got smelt and
tom-cod. B. sewed at mittens for himself, and G. took the church organ
to pieces to clean and repair it. Mr. M., who has been at work on the
Home, has come here to spend the winter. I wish he would set to work and
catch some of the mice which infest the house, and run over me when I am
asleep in the night time.
A meeting for the natives in the house again tonight, and the doors had
to be left open on account of the pungent seal oil perfume from the
garments of the Eskimos.
The man who was killed was buried today in the edge of the little
graveyard on the hillside. The Swedish preacher was asked to go to the
grave, and he did so, reading a Psalm, and offering a prayer. Only four
or five men were present. It is a stony, lonely place, without a tree in
sight; the few scattering graves having only wooden slabs for head
boards. Being just above the beach, the spot commands a view of the bay
in front, but it is now all a snow and ice desert, and the most dreary
place imaginable. Very little was known of the murdered man, and no good
could be said of him, but it is supposed that he has a wife and children
somewhere.
What a dreadful ending! Will his family ever know what has become of
him, and is his mother still living? If so, I hope they may never learn
of his horrid death and worthless life in Alaska. He was never conscious
for a moment after being hurt, so they know nothing as to where to write
to his relatives. It makes one shudder to think of it! He may have been
a good and bright child, beloved by parents and brothers, but the drink
curse claimed him for its own.
The weather is clear, with sunshine and frost. The visiting preacher has
been making himself useful for a few days by helping us in cutting out
overalls and blouses for the Eskimo boys. Down on his knees upon the
floor, with shears, rolls of denim, and a pair of small trousers to
pattern by, he has wielded the little steel instrument to good purpose,
and encouraged and assisted us greatly.
With their new clothes, the children are all quite well pleased, for
they are fresh and sweet. The missionaries are trying very hard to teach
them cleanliness among other things, and they sometimes come and stand
in the doorway and look at us sewing, their faces always good natured,
and showing more or less curiosity. When told to run away to play, they
obey quickly, and little Pete and the others like to keep the wood boxes
filled to help us. The older girls being from ten to twelve years of
age, are often caring for and amusing Bessie, and she is fond of them,
until, like any other child, she cannot have her own way, and then she
disapproves of them by kicking and screaming till Miss J. comes to
settle the business.